


Adding to the Foundation

by kaitlia777



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Frottage, M/M, Shooting Star, physical comfort, post episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 17:37:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaitlia777/pseuds/kaitlia777
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine and Sam finding comfort in each other post Shooting Star.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adding to the Foundation

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Sorry for any typos. My transcription software doesn’t always understand what I say and I don’t always catch the mistakes. I have trouble typing things by hand since I suffered an injury last year to my right hand and it seizes up if I try to do too much.

**  
**  
**

Though many students had rallied and attended school the day after the gunshots and subsequent lockdown, everyone was on edge and, instead of hanging out with friends, almost everyone rushed home on Friday afternoon, seeking the safety and comfort of their familys.

Blaine quite enjoyed that his mother and father were around and that they had decided to rearrange their plans to spend the next week at home with him.

Separated physically, the glee club kept in touch via calls and texts, so Blaine wasn't surprised when his phone buzzed and Sam's name popped up on the display. “Hey, Sam,” he greeted him. "How are things going at Brittany’s?”

Mr. and Mrs. Pierce had agreed to let Sam spend the weekend at their house due to the shooting and the fact that Burt and Carole had to go out of town for one of Burt’s cancer treatments in Cleveland. Sam would've been left alone at the Hudson-Hummel house and no one wanted that to happen so soon after the trauma of the shooting.

"Britt was Skyping with Santana," Sam replied, sounding shaken, more so than the statement warranted. "Lady Tubbington was sitting on my lap so I could pass her and Lord Tubbington freaked out. He scratched me up and was hissing and Brittany cried and Santana was yelling and I don't know what I did….”

“Where are you?” Blaine asked, not at all happy to hear that strange, sad, desperate tone in Sam's voice. His mother looked up curiously from her book as he sat up from where he had been curled at the end of the couch.

Sam's sounded…empty, when he said, “On my way home. Britt…she said I had to leave. Lord Tubbington found my presence to stressful… She broke up with me. For her cat! Why... What could I have done? I don't know why he hates me….”

“Sam, calm down,” Lane said, honestly worried. "Are you okay driving? If not, pull over and I'll come get you."

"I can drive,” Sam replied and Blaine sighed.

“Then come here, to my house. You can’t stay alone this weekend,” Blaine told him, then asked, “Did you rinse out the cat scratches?”

"No," Sam admitted. "They burned a bit."

Probably more than a bit. "We'll get you patched up when you get here,” he assured Sam gently. “Drive carefully please.”

“Okay. See you in a bit,” Sam responded and Blaine wasn't sure, but he thought his friend sounded a little calmer, knowing he wasn't headed home to rattle around an empty house.

When he hung up, he turned to his mother and said, "I probably should have asked first, but Sam stays over a lot when your dad are away. You'll like him, he's very nice."

"Is he your boyfriend?” his mother asked and Blaine flushed.

Shaking his head, Blaine said, "No, best friend. He's straight and just got dumped by his girlfriend… Because her cat doesn't like him. Her cat, who I'm fairly certain it is evil. After… God, mommy, Sam tried to go find her when we were locked in the choir room. Mr. Shue and Coach Bieste had to physically restrain him to keep him from going to her. He would have risked his life for her and she….”

He let his voice trail off with a shaky sigh. Brittany wasn't malicious. Yes, she has clearly hurt Sam, but it wasn't like she had broken up with him just cause him pain. As always, any cruelty from Brittany was unintentional and she probably felt bad about hurting Sam.

“I'll get the first aid kit," his mother offered, rubbing his arm gently. “You said something about scratches?”

“Lord Tubbington, Brittany's cat, scratched him.”

She frowned. "Scratches are very unpleasant," she told him. "Prone to infection. Did he try to treat them yet?"

"No," Blaine said and she sighed before stepping out of the room and walking down the hall toward the guest bathroom. 

Hovering by the door, Blaine subsample into the driveway and went out to greet him. “Sam!” he yelped, catching sight of his bloody hands and forearms as soon as he got out of the truck. “What the hell? Did Lord Tubbington mutate into a bear?”

Sam shook his head. “No," he said, pale faced as he held his arms out awkwardly. "I can't really hurt though."

Taking his elbow, Blaine pulled his friend toward the house, looking at Sam's hands. Both were smeared with blood, but the right seemed to be a bit swollen and… “Did he bite you?”

“Couple of times,” Sam admitted and Blaine scowled.

Cat bites were not something to mess around with.

“Mom!” Blaine hollered, dragging Sam down toward the bath room. “The cat is him too!”

“Oh,” she tutted, arranging the first aid kit on the bathroom counter. When Blaine steered Sam into the room, she looked up at him and pointed to the closed toilet seat. “Sit.”

Immediately obeying, Sam still said, “It’s nice to meet you, ma'am. I'm Sam Evans. Sorry to be bleeding all over your….”

“Hush now,” she chided. "This is not your fault. My name is Ana. You may call me that if you like, or Mrs. Anderson if you're more comfortable.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Sam replied, flinching as she rolled the torn sleeves of his plaid shirt to his elbows.

Even through the blood, Blaine could see a lot of scratches, some of them quite deep and at least three bites. “Oh, Sam," he said frowning deeply and reaching out to squeeze Sam's shoulder. "That's got to hurt.”

As Sam nodded, his mom said, “Stand now, Sam and hold your arms over the tub, I'm going to try to rinse all of these out of the shower head…Blaine, sweetheart, can you rub the antibacterial soap onto the wounds?”

Both Blaine and Sam flinched, knowing that was likely to hurt like hell, but he nodded and went to the sink to wash his own hands.

The water in the tub ran red as Mom made them spend five minutes rubbing soap into Sam's bites and scratches. Two minutes in, Dad came wandering in to see what was going on, but refrained from commenting until they finished.

Sam was pale and shaking, sweaty as Mom inspected the bites. “What's going on?” Dad inquired, peering at them all with interest.

“Dad, this is my friend Sam. He was just mauled by his girlfriend’s jealous cat,” Blaine informed him, patting Sam's back.

“Ex-girlfriend,” Sam mumbled, then bit down on his lip as Mom poured peroxide into the five bites, each containing several puncture wounds. In a strained voice, he managed, “Nice to meet you, sir.”

“Is her cat a puma?” Dad question and Blaine rolled his eyes.

“We need to take you to the hospital. Some of these will definitely require antibiotics,” Mom said, rinsing the peroxide away. “We should probably call your parents.”

“My family lives in Kentucky,” Sam replied, obviously relieved that she was done with the peroxide. “I lived with the Hudson-Hummel’s, but they're in Cleveland this weekend.”

“How old are you?” Dad asked Sam, who was wiggling the fingers of his puffy hand.

“Nearly 18,” Sam told him, earning smiles from both of Blaine's parents, because that had been Blaine’s own response until his birthday a few weeks earlier. Sam would not be 18 for another two weeks.

The weight at the ER was a long one, though Dad did pass some time having a phone conversation with Mr. Evans, who spoke with someone at the hospital and authorized Blaine's parents to act in loco parentis for Sam.

Sam did not enjoy having his wounds cleaned yet again, nor did he like the rabies series the doctor insisted on since Sam refused to tell him what bit him (apparently, Lord Tubbington had a pre-existing record and there could be trouble if someone reported him for biting again). 

Full of medicine and arms and hands wrapped in gauze like a mummy, Sam was drowsy by the time they got back to the house and Blaine stripped him of his bloody shirt and jeans before pouring him into bed.

It was early still, barely 9 PM, but Blaine said his good nights to his parents and went about getting ready for bed himself.

When he crawled under the covers beside Sam, the taller boy shifted and wrapped himself around Blaine, clinging even more than he usually did while asleep. Never one to mind the human octopus impression, Blaine sighed and snuggled close careful not to jostles Sam's arms.

Exhausted, he was asleep within minutes.

**  
**

When he woke, hazy, predawn light was filtering in through the window. Sam was also awake, eyes focused intently on Blaine’s face. "Sam?" he asked, still feeling foggy and half-asleep. “What are you doing awake?”

Sam bit his lip. “When Burt came to pick me up after the shooting, I asked him to take me to church. I prayed, asked forgiveness for putting everyone in danger when I melted down in the choir room and thanked God that you are all okay... Especially Britt and you….”

“You don't need to ask forgiveness, Sam,” Blaine told him, rubbing his arm comfortingly. "If it had been Kurt out there or you, I would have done the same.”

A shuddering breath spilled from Sam's lips. "I would've tried to get you too… I just… I don't…” he stammered, closing his eyes and pressing his brow against Blaine’s. “Please, don't ever put yourself in danger for me. Please."

Some people would think Sam had a hero complex, but Blaine knew better. Sam simply thought of their lives were more important than his own. "But Sam," he murmured softly, reaching up to cup the back of Sam's neck, "to me, you’re worth the risk."

He was so close, Blaine could almost feel when Sam's lips wobbled, could smell the salty tang of escaping tears. Unable to help himself, Blaine pulled back and pressed little kisses to Sam's cheeks, murmuring, “It’s okay to cry. We're okay. We are all okay….”

Tipping his face closer to Blaine, Sam nodded and eventually replied, “Yeah, we're okay… We're okay….”

Then he hugged Blaine tighter, pulling their bodies close together, their legs already tangled. Flushing, Blaine tried to ignore the fact that his morning wood was now pressed against Sam's firm stomach, but it was harder not to notice Sam's cock, hard against his thigh.

In retrospect, Blaine couldn't even recall who started it, but suddenly Sam's lips were on his own, soft, warm and real. Their tongues brushed, desperately tangling his hands scrambled over skin and tugged at pajamas.

It was hot and awkward, but no way was Blaine going to stop. With a groan, he hitched his leg up and over Sam's hip, wriggling around and down a bit so that he could grind their cock’s together, pulling a little moan from the blonde. “God, Sam,” he murmured softly, angling to suck at the skin right under Sam’s jaw.

“Oh,” Sam sighed, rolling his hips against Blaine, creating a really incredible friction. Blaine hummed happily against Sam's neck, nibbling the tender flesh and he was intrigued by the choked little mewls the action drew from Sam.

The moved together, trading gasping breaths when Blaine stretched back up to kiss Sam's lips. Blaine moaned into Sam's mouth as he came, a sudden, brilliant flash pleasure and he felt Sam follow him over the edge moments later.

As Blaine slowly came back to himself, he smiled, feeling Sam still pressing little kisses along his jaw line. Unable to help himself, he ran a hand up Sam's sweat damp back and asked, “Sam, what was that?"

"Awesome,” Sam mumbled, pulling back to meet Blaine’s eyes. "You're my best friend. I love you and we're alive…and you're a really great kisser, dude!”

Smiling, Blaine decided not over think, because Sam was right. They were best friends, Blaine love Sam and they had survived something horrible together…. “You're not so bad yourself.”

“Oh really," Sam chuckled. "If I'm only not so bad, maybe I need more practice.”

“Maybe,” Blaine mused, leaning up and nipping at Sam's lip. “I could totally help you with that... After we brush her teeth, clean up and let me check your bites.”

“You sweet talker, you,” Sam teased, nodding agreeably and something in his smile told Blaine that yes, whatever this was would be awesome.

Sure, they'd added a new aspect of a relationship, but they were still rock solid. Nothing was going to shake the foundation of Blam. Whatever came at them could only make them stronger.


End file.
